Chapter 16 - THE EMPTY BED
For one second, I did not understand the sentence.
Arthur Mercer has Lucas.
Because Lucas was at Sylvester’s estate.
Protected.
Two federal agents outside his room.
Cameras.
Guards.
Locked gates.
Impossible.
Then Sylvester was already moving.
Calling Edmund.
No answer.
Calling security.
No answer.
Bell radioed his agents.
Static.
My heart began pounding so hard I could hear it.
“No.”
We ran.
Boston vault corridor.
Elevator.
Car.
Airport.
Everything blurred.
Bell’s team reached Sylvester’s estate remotely.
Camera feeds offline.
Security network dark.
Local police dispatched.
By the time our jet landed outside Chicago, Bell already knew.
Two guards unconscious.
One federal agent injured.
No Lucas.
No Edmund.
I couldn't feel my body.
I walked into the estate.
Lucas’s room.
Bed empty.
Blanket on floor.
His stuffed dinosaur beside the pillow.
I picked it up.
No sound came out of me.
Sylvester stood behind me.
“Claire.”
I turned.
He had never looked frightened before.
Now he did.
“You promised.”
“I know.”
“You told me this house was safe.”
“I know.”
“You promised me.”
His face broke.
“I know.”
I hit him.
Once.
Open hand.
Across the face.
He didn't stop me.
I hit his chest.
Again.
“You promised.”
“I know.”
Again.
He caught my wrists gently.
I collapsed.
Not elegant.
Not quiet.
I screamed.
Every fear I had contained for three days came out.
Bell entered and waited.
When I finally stopped, he crouched.
“Claire.”
I looked at him.
“We will find him.”
I hated promises.
But I needed that one.
“What happened?”
Bell explained.
Someone used a cloned federal credential to access the property perimeter.
Security system recognized vehicle.
Internal cameras disabled.
Agents were hit with aerosol sedative.
Professional.
Fast.
Lucas likely taken while asleep.
No blood.
No signs of struggle.
That mattered.
A little.
“Edmund?”
“Missing.”
I looked at Sylvester.
Nathaniel had circled Edmund.
The phone under Lucas’s pillow.
Security irregularities.
Edmund’s secret investigation.
Had we been wrong?
Sylvester refused to believe it.
I didn't care what he believed.
“Find him.”
Bell did.
Edmund’s phone last pinged near the estate gate.
Vehicle located twenty miles away.
Abandoned.
Blood inside.
Not Lucas’s.
Testing pending.
Then Eleanor arrived under federal escort.
I nearly attacked her.
Bell stopped me.
She stood in the entry hall.
Older than I remembered.
Smaller.
Her face had collapsed under grief.
“You.”
My voice barely sounded human.
She looked at me.
“Claire.”
“Where is my son?”
“I don't know.”
“You told them Arthur has him.”
“He called me.”
“When?”
“Twenty minutes before I surrendered.”
“What did he say?”
“That he finally has leverage.”
“Where?”
“He wouldn't tell me.”
I stepped closer.
“You started this.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“Yes.”
“You gave Arthur Nathaniel’s information.”
“Yes.”
“You let me think his death was an accident.”
“Yes.”
“You attacked my custody.”
Her face changed.
“No.”
I laughed.
“Don't.”
“I did not.”
“Your lawyers did.”
“Graham.”
“You signed filings.”
“Because Graham told me Lucas was unsafe with you.”
“You believed him?”
“I wanted to.”
That answer hurt more than a lie.
“Why?”
Eleanor looked at the floor.
“Because blaming you was easier than accepting what I'd done.”
Silence.
I stared.
She continued.
“If I convinced myself Nathaniel had been manipulated…”
“If I convinced myself you were after money…”
“If I convinced myself Lucas belonged with our family…”
Her voice broke.
“Then I didn't have to accept that my son died because I trusted Arthur.”
I hated her.
But I understood grief’s cowardice.
That made it worse.
“Why did you surrender now?”
“Because Arthur took Lucas.”
“You knew he might.”
“No.”
“Nathaniel warned you.”
“Yes.”
“And you still stayed quiet.”
“Yes.”
I turned away.
I couldn't look at her.
Bell asked.
“What leverage does Mercer want?”
Eleanor answered.
“The drive.”
“No.”
“Claire.”
“No.”
Bell looked at me.
“If trading a copy gets Lucas—”
“No.”
Sylvester stared.
I continued.
“Arthur killed Nathaniel to destroy evidence.”
“If he gets it, Lucas becomes useless.”
Eleanor nodded slowly.
“She is right.”
Bell didn't like that.
Neither did I.
Arthur needed Lucas alive only while evidence threatened him.
Give him everything.
Remove leverage.
What happened next was obvious.
“We give him something he thinks is the drive,” Sylvester said.
Bell looked over.
“Controlled operation.”
“Yes.”
“Federal.”
“Yes.”
“No private security.”
Sylvester hesitated.
Then.
“Yes.”
Growth.
Small.
Late.
But real.
Arthur contacted us at 9:16 PM.
Video call.
Lucas appeared.
Alive.
Sitting in a chair.
No visible injuries.
My knees almost failed.
“Mom.”
“Lucas.”
I moved toward the screen as if I could touch him.
“I'm okay.”
God.
Brave little liar.
Behind him.
Arthur Mercer.
Silver hair.
Tailored suit.
Kind grandfather face.
Monster.
“Claire.”
“You touch him—”
“I haven't.”
“You took him.”
“Yes.”
“Where is Edmund?”
Arthur smiled.
“Your suspicion is poorly directed.”
Camera shifted.
Edmund lay on the floor.
Hands tied.
Blood on his forehead.
Alive.
I looked at Sylvester.
He closed his eyes briefly.
Arthur continued.
“Bring me the original drive.”
Bell silently traced.
“Where?”
“You'll receive coordinates.”
“Lucas first.”
Arthur laughed.
“No.”
“I need proof he can leave.”
“You have proof he is alive.”
“That's not enough.”
“It will have to be.”
He leaned toward Lucas.
I saw my son flinch.
My nails dug into my palms.
Arthur smiled.
“Midnight.”
“Claire alone.”
Sylvester shook his head.
Arthur saw.
“Oh.”
“Michael Vale.”
“How predictable.”
Sylvester stepped into frame.
“You wanted my father’s secrets?”
Arthur’s expression changed.
Slightly.
Sylvester continued.
“I found them.”
Arthur went still.
“What did you find?”
Sylvester smiled.
“Enough to know Sebastian kept a second ledger.”
That was a lie.
I knew.
Bell knew.
Arthur didn't.
For the first time, his calm broke.
“Where?”
Sylvester glanced at me.
Then back at Arthur.
“Trade.”
Arthur’s eyes narrowed.
“Claire brings Nathaniel’s drive.”
“I bring Sebastian’s ledger.”
“Both for Lucas and Edmund.”
Arthur considered.
Then smiled.
“Fine.”
Coordinates arrived.
Abandoned rail terminal outside Gary, Indiana.
Midnight.
Bell immediately deployed teams.
Then one technician spoke.
“Sir.”
“What?”
“We traced the video.”
Bell looked.
“Not Indiana.”
My heart jumped.
“Where?”
“Chicago.”
“Where in Chicago?”
The technician zoomed.
Old Cross Continental office tower.
Downtown.
Seventy-second floor.
I looked at Sylvester.
Arthur had given us a false meeting site.
At midnight, he expected us forty miles away.
Lucas was in the city.
Bell smiled for the first time.
“He doesn't know we found him.”
May you like
I stood.
“Then we're going now.”
